


Oneshots

by Ambleon



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Death Note, Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Loveless, Naruto
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Body Dysphoria, Bullying, Child Abuse, Crack, Drabble, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Superpowers, Tragedy, Trans Character, Unrequited Love, Werewolves, Witches, didn't like the clutter, innocent Light, oc-insert, posting all my oneshots together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-21 16:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6058543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambleon/pseuds/Ambleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>9 - Death Note Oneshots<br/>3 - Harry Potter Oneshots<br/>2 - Glee Oneshots<br/>2 - Naruto Oneshots<br/>1 - Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Much of a Good Thing | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rem used to listen in on college classes throughout the human realm to relieve her boredom.

The classes were interesting, confusing as they could be, which was more than Rem could say for the Shinigami Realm on a good day. Good days that were spread far and wide apart, happening every few years at random.

She likes the classes... though some of the concepts being taught surprised her at first. Challenged her in a way that gambling used to but hasn't in a long time.

She had to work her way up through the schools. Starting at Elementary and working through the lowest grades. Rem has learned to be careful which classes she takes. Not going too far above her level that lessons go over her head, and not going to classes that are too easy and defeat the purpose of coming down to the human world in the first place.

Every class is fun. She only wishes, sometimes, that she could do a few of the stranger projects and turn them in. Get a grade that she might use to gauge her progress.

Not only are the classes fun, the humans are interesting to listen to also. They talk to each other and every classroom has a different dynamic. Some of the classes that Rem joins in on are simply for watching the humans.

Although she can't stay for long (often missing halves of different classes because of the time rule for staying in the human realm) she never leaves unsatisfied.

It was enough to have something to look forward to.

But, like all good things, eventually she wanted more. Even after being so excited with what she already had. Even knowing that there was still much to learn without needing more yet. Still, when the opportunity came Rem jumped at the chance to stay in the human realm for a longer time.

And when Gelus died, instead of picking up the notebook and giving it to the king as she should have, Rem decided to go to the human realm. Visit this girl that Gelus loved enough to die for.

Misa didn't care for school or learning. But that wasn't so bad. She was interesting in her own right. Her life and the drama and all the new things to learn about humans, the fact that she could now converse with a human, distracted Rem enough. She loved Misa. The chance to be in the human realm for so long was a gift much greater than the Death Note ever was. But it wasn't meant to last.

Things got out of control.


	2. Slouch | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throughout the course of the Kira investigation L decided to play a game. Whenever he was in the presence of Light or any of the members of the task force, he would slouch and eat sweets and, basically, be as creepy as was humanly possible. He had thought that it would be a fun way to pass the time while he got to the bottom of the Kira case. L had no idea when he started his "social experiment" that he would be stuck playing the role of freak to an unsuspecting audience every day, all day, for months.

L's back is killing him. The pain is running a jarring course up and down his back from standing and sitting in this grotesquely hunched position for days on end. It doesn't help that sitting in a crouch also makes his legs hurt behind his knees. All he can do is remind himself that this was a good idea in the beginning. It had seemed that way at least. Light had been this uptight, "model" teenager that put so much effort into appearing normal. L had wanted to rub his beliefs into the mud a little.  

What was a better way to do that then to lead him to believe that the most successful person in the world was a grade A freak? The reaction, from everyone, was something L had reveled in. His childish and vindictive nature couldn't help causing a ruckus when the opportunity presented itself. It was an incredible social experiment too.

But right now what he really wants to eat is a salad, and he wants to have a cup of steaming black coffee. L is hating himself for deciding to slouch, and eat stomach pain inducing levels of sweets; and crouch wherever he sits, and stare at everyone with bulging eyes that make him look mentally challenged, especially when sitting next to Light.

When he only had to eat sweets and sit in a slouch for a few moments throughout a day the whole act was fun. He had never enjoyed standing upright and he had a natural bit of a slouch anyways. Plus, before this L would have said that he was a chocoholic and a sweets lover.

It had been hilarious back in the beginning. But that was before L started living with Light 24-7.  Now, it was a gradually maddening form of torture that was hurting himself more than it ever irritated Light and the task force.

Of course the task force still cringed when L poured twenty eight packets of sugar into his coffee and Light still paled at times when L caught him off guard. For the most part though, Light and the task force had adapted to L's behavior. To the point that the only one that was truly bothered by it anymore was L himself, the person that was dealing with the stomach aches and back pain and the strain in his eyes from constantly keeping them unnaturally widened. The only decent thing about this situation was that he didn't have to work out anymore.

"Ryuzaki, are you alright? You seem _tense_." Light asked, glancing over at L, his eyes innocent and questioning.

It was amazing that someone as smart as Light still didn't have a clue that L was hiding his true self. Though, something about Light had been off from the moment his eyes changed in solitary confinement. Light was more open, more... _less_ suspicious.

L didn't know what to make of it.

"Hmm? I'm still feeling a little down now that you might not be Kira, at least not as I thought you would be, but I've been feeling better." L said absently

He really was getting cranky from how long this case was taking. He stirred his coffee slowly, the tips of his index finger and thumb holding the silver spoon delicately. Light huffed quietly and tried to give L another motivational pep talk, not realizing that the setback L was dealing with was mainly physical in nature. L could appreciate the teenagers zeal though and he dredged up a placating comment that would put Light's mind at ease for the time being, wishing halfheartedly that Light would realize what was wrong and call L out on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was re-reading this manga and noticed that in the first volume L really doesn't have that much of a slouch, and he even sits differently at one point. It made me start thinking about how different Death Note would be, and L's motivations behind his thinking would be, if L was actually more "normal" than Light or the task force had ever suspected. 
> 
> I was thinking about writing a little about Beyond and even Near and Mello, too. Imagine copying someone, only to realize that the person you were imitating was never being genuine in the first place. Or, what if Beyond was being himself, and _L_ was the one copying his mannerisms and not the other way around???


	3. Let Go | Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds himself in the non-wizarding world, lost and befuddled. From there he is placed in an orphanage, where he meets a strange but powerful muggleborn named Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Bullying

“I am not an orphan.” Draco hissed, punctuating his words as clearly and slowly as he could through his seething anger. The old muggle held him tightly, preventing him from running away; it was an almost bruising grip. She was almost stronger than the gruff looking muggle that had dragged him to the orphanage when they found him in the first place.

Of all the things that had happened in his life, _this_ was the most confusing. He had gone to work that day with his father. Beyond that Draco's memory got fussy. He had a feeling that he had touched something or went somewhere that he wasn't supposed to.

It was embarrassing, being dragged about by muggles and then of all things being taken to an _orphanage_.

He was a Malfoy. He didn't consort with non-magic people.

Draco had been picked up from an alley somewhere unconscious or at least that was what the adult voices where saying all around him. He had been found and then they had looked for the name Malfoy with their muggle recourses, it hadn’t been there. The Malfoy's were a strictly Wizarding family though so of course a Muggle wouldn’t find them. All that Draco needed was to be left alone by the muggles so that he could make his way back home... wherever that was, either way Draco was sure that his parents would find him soon enough.  He just wished he knew where _here_ was.

 

"your parents probably abandoned you because you're a _freak_."

Draco almost fell to the floor when he was shoved.

He hated speaking to muggles. Now he had to though, he wouldn't be pushed around. Draco had been here for almost a month without any changes. He simply couldn't leave without supervision, at least not since they realized that he _would_ leave at any given opportunity.

The problem was that Draco didn't know _where_ he was. From there, he couldn't find his way back home. His parents must have been worried sick, but they hadn't found him either. Hearing _this_ parentless child talk made Draco furious.

"Don't touch me _filth_." Draco said coldly.

But even as he said it the children around him were closing in, eager to watch the conflict up close. Out of the corner of his eye Draco could the young boy that he had met on his first day... Tom Riddle was it?

There was still a strangeness about the other child. Something heavy and subdued that had made Draco shiver and decide to avoid him.

His eyes now pierced through the crowd to stare at Draco, though he didn't seem to particularly care about the situation. He was apart from the group, only looking up from the book that he was reading when all of the light in the room went out. Draco couldn't stop his magic when he was angry. He was strong for his age, of course, but he'd never had a wand.

All of his magic was pure instinct.

"What are you going to do about it, cry to your mommy? Oh wait, that's right, they left you on the streets to die."

Then Draco was shoved again, harder, but this time he was ready for it and his magic reacted in kind, defending him, enveloping his body silently, and shoving back.

"I said don't touch me." Draco said and the boy was falling to the ground, smacking loudly against the wall.

Everyone gasped in surprise.

Draco didn't give them a chance to do anything more before he stalked forward. The tables had turned, Draco wouldn't let his guard down and lose the advantage now. All of the orphans were stepping back as Draco glared, focusing on the boy that had confronted him.

"You don't speak to me. I am better than you will ever be. _Stay down_."

The boy crumpled to the ground again when he tried to get up and shout at Draco again, not learning his lesson the first time.

"I am your better in every way and you will listen to me. Or I'll force you to." He said, looking at the orphans around him too as he said it.

They looked fearful and wide eyed, confused. All except for one. That one looked riveted, exited. As if he was seeing Draco for the first time.

Draco left immediately, the crowd parting easily, with his head held high. He was exhausted. Feeling as though he had just had a full-fledged tantrum. He went to bed and fell asleep. No one disturbed him.

Later some of the children would try to revolt against Draco, but he always managed. 

His parents didn't find him.

 

"You're powerful, but I'm stronger." Tom said, his voice sure and calm as if he was only stating a fact. It was unnerving.   

 _“Let me go."_ Draco ordered.

He glared indignantly at the annoying boy, trying to yank his arm away from the strong hold. Tom Riddle had to be at least a year younger than Draco too. Yet he was entirely unfazed by Draco's temper.

His face was so calm that Draco couldn’t decide if he should maybe be a little worried about the boy.

_“No.”_

 

Draco didn’t see Tom a lot of the time because they were in different years and Tom was always preoccupied with something and Draco didn’t really feel up to going down for breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the other Slytherin when he had nothing to see but the other Malfoy gloating about the food his mother sent him. Draco didn’t like his grandfather. He talked too much and spent all of that time going on about things that he didn’t like and worst of all he made Draco jealous that he had parents.

When Abraxas waved his goodies around for all to see without sharing (except, sometimes, he gave some to Tom) it made Draco wonder if HE had acted like that and it made him even more self-conscious when he realized that, yes, he did. He acted just like Abraxas Malfoy, his grandfather, and somehow he didn’t like it. He told Tom this one day in the common room.

“How did my father get out of acting like that? Does it skip generations?”

Tom snorted. "Chances are, your father is just like that too, you just never noticed it before."

Draco chewed his sugar quill worriedly, and then decided that that it wasn’t true. His father was never annoying. Neither of his parents had been.

Oftentimes Draco wished that he had stayed in his own time period. He had lived in a peaceful time. But now, after it had been so long, Draco didn't know how he would adjust if he ever made it back to his parents.


	4. Faultless | Death Note & Loveless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light wakes up one morning to find the word [faultless] written across his right palm.

The black, smooth, crunched cursive English letters were there when he woke up. Just spread across his right palm.

Perplexing. Light had ran his fingers lightly over the word. 

"Faultless, huh?"

He was careful to keep the word hidden. It was simple enough to adjust to. Somehow, Light wasn't as bothered by the anomaly as he ought to have been. The tattoo seemed to fit him. And more than that Light felt as though the word was meant for him.

 

He meets his other half at the library. It's a cold day in the middle of winter. Light is trying to find something new to read in the nonfiction section.

He sees the flash of a palm through the cracks of the books on the other side of the shelf where he stands.

_Faultless._

He gasps. Then he sees black eyes. Those eyes are as black as the letters on both of their palms. Not even sure why he does it, Light takes off his gloves and waves silently, right palm up. It's simple after that. There's this strange, immediate recognition on the face of the other man. 

 

Light learns that L is his sacrifice. And that he is L's fighter. The words make Light laugh at first until he realizes that L is entirely serious. After that Light listens intently as L fills him in on the story of a world that Light hadn't known existed. If L was anyone else, Light would have left and never spoke to the dark haired, scruffy looking man again. But for whatever reason, inexplicably, Light trusts L's words.

Together they were faultless.


	5. Four Souls | Ats & BtvS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelus, Darla, Spike, and Drusilla were all cursed with souls.

Drusilla was crying.

Her tears were going to drive Angelus insane too. His _soul_ was going to make him crazy. At another time he would have laughed at her plight, he would have thought she was funny. Oh how he would have enjoyed her suffering. Right now though, Angelus can relate all too well to what Drusilla is going through. The pain that she is feeling... the shock of having a soul forced back inside.

Darla was glaring at Drusilla.

She wasn't crying, and didn't look as though she would start crying any time soon. As always Darla looked calculative but there was a tired and haunted look about her that spoke to the affect a soul was having on her. Angelus could barely remember how he had made it back to this house after he had been cursed by the gypsies. He had gone to look for Darla, feeling sick and confused. Dread had coursed through him in a way that he couldn't remember as he had stumbled up the short steps. He had heard Drusilla screaming from within the house. He had opened the door, listening to the sound of Darla yelling at the younger vampire. A part of Angelus knew, before he entered the house, that he was not the only vampire cursed on that night.

He watched Darla move toward Drusilla.

"Drusilla." She spoke.

Her voice was calm and steady. She sounded like a different version of Spike when she crouched down like that. It was probably the only thing that she could think to do.

Angelus stood at the fireplace helplessly. For once he had no idea what to do. Earlier, he would have known exactly what to do to shut Drusilla up. Right now he can see no possible solution. He can come up with no way to comfort a girl that he had so brutally tortured. Darla had a better chance of quieting the younger vampire, but she wasn't succeeding. Drusilla's screams were growing louder. It's a miracle that no one has come knocking on the door. Angelus isn't sure that he's stable enough _himself_ to figure out an excuse if asked.

It isn't long before Darla gives up entirely. Stepping back when Drusilla's hand lashes out, almost cutting the older vampires cheek.

"IT WASN'T GOING TO HAPPEN THIS WAY. IT WASN'T GOING TO- NONONOONO."

"BE QUIET." Darla screams back.

Her voice as loud and as shrill as Drusilla's is. He watches them, feels small as he thinks on everything that has brought him this moment.

In one second Angelus's life was one way, in the next his life had change completely. It was as though he had been reborn again. This time around the life he was born into was much less pleasant.

" I can't stand this. _You_ Angelus, you just had to make her crazy." Darla spun around to face him.

The hysterical rage on her face only made him snap though.

"And whose fault was that?" He exploded, nothing could ever compare to the fury that he felt in himself at that moment towards _her_.

The anger he felt towards the world, towards everything that he had ever touched in his life.

"Your fault. You made me first Darla." He shouted and he knew that he was only hurting her right then as she soaked in his every sentence.

He could see it in her eyes as they flickered, in her lower lip as it started to tremble under his truths.

He knew exactly what he was doing to her but he just couldn't stop it. Because to some degree he _did_ blame her, if only a little, if only enough for him to be able to spit out this venom as well as she had served it unto him. The master had made her and someone had made the master long before that, this blame she was bringing back could only leave them all guilty.

She couldn't seem to stop herself either though before she had yelled. It was the only thing they could for a second understand to do anymore. They were a cursed "family" for travelling together and now they were cornered, Angelus couldn't think properly. He was still speaking.

"-Practically egged me on, gift wrapped her, look at the marvelous seer Angelus. Look at her, you made us." He accused-

"Stop it, stop it." Spike's quiet whisper of a voice rose up through the screaming, barely heard but their heightened hearing was attuned to even the smallest nuances.

Their yelling ceased as they turned to him. Sitting still, sitting still against the wall beside the fire. Spike had curled himself into a ball meekly... brokenly, like so many of their victims. Drusilla's harsh wails could be heard throughout the house, lost and alone yet it was quiet as they stared at the shivering, youngest vampire in their group. Angelus couldn't comfort Drusilla or Spike. A part of him didn't want to. They were all strangers now and the sound of hitched crying only brought pain. They all pretended they couldn't hear Drusilla's cries. Spike wasn't going to her to comfort her this time, she had made him and now he was confused. As confused as all of them were.

"I- I killed my mother... she was the only family I ever had and I, I thought _this_ was better." Will whispered, staring at his hands blankly as if he could see her blood.

Abruptly he stood up.

"I need a bath." Spike said and ran towards the bathroom.

Maybe Spike's reaction was the most logical of all. Angelus glanced over to Darla, and they were almost of one thought again. As always, one thought...

The bath was a wonderful idea but...

"We need to fix this." Darla said, her voice raspy from her yelling but determined.

The gypsies, that's what they needed. He held open the door for her, as they left he glanced back to the poor rocking girl that was still crying loudly. She looked exhausted and her whimpers were trailing into ramblings. Drusilla was lost to herself in her mind.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

Her cries broke, and then she began screaming again.


	6. No Love | Glee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Blaine wasn't moved by Kurt. But on the bright side, of gray, Pavarotti lives to fly another day._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Sebastian Smythe moves to Ohio and becomes friendly with Blaine. Kurt hates this but he's back at McKinley and incapable of fixing anything. In any case, Kurt figures he can't be openly jealous because he isn't dating Blaine.

Kurt sat down with his coffee and napkin at the Lima Bean. He'd arrived early, wanting some space to think as he waited for his best friend.

It was a bad idea. He should have canceled on Blaine. To be honest, if only to himself, Kurt had come to the conclusion a long awhile ago. Before Valentine's Day. That Blaine would never love him in the way Kurt wanted. He needed to think.

 

"This is my friend Kurt. Kurt, this is Sebastian, the new Warbler I was telling you about."

Oh, Kurt hadn't known that they brought other people to their coffee dates. Not that they were having dates exactly, he had known that since Valentine's day last year.

Just coffee.

Well, yeah. But coffee had always been Kurt and Blaine time. They never invited other people to these. Or, he had thought they didn't. Only he'd thought wrong. And Kurt needed to get used to not reading into every little thing Blaine did, including bringing other people to their coffee non-date sessions to talk, so that he could move on. There are other fish in the sea, Blaine isn't Kurt's to catch.

 

Sebastian, the new warbler, has a sort of smirk-smile and a tendency to look as though he knows exactly what Kurt is thinking. How is it that a perfect stranger can cotton on to what Kurt is feeling faster than Blaine can?

And Sebastian had been here for less time, and the boy could make Blaine blush like that. How? It wasn't fair, and Kurt didn't see how treating someone like they were a piece of meat was sexy.

It wasn't. At all, yet Blaine reacted to the leers and the "I'm from France" drill and the everything. Kurt was jealous. But he couldn't be overtly jealous, because Blaine was his best friend not his boyfriend. So Kurt sat, seething. Rolling his eyes quietly when the flirting got loud. What else could he do? Somehow, Sebastian Smythe, boy wonder singing sensation that was actually getting a solo-

wait.

"Wait, you got a solo? Already?"

Kurt's estimation of boy wonder rose. As did his seething jealously and his eyebrows. It just figured that Blaine would love someone that could get a solo.

"I hate him." Kurt said, and it took a moment and Blaine's gaping face to realize he'd said that out loud but now that it was on the table he was never taking it back, even as a small blush steadily spread across his cheeks. It didn't look like the rat cared either. If anything he was amused by Kurt's reaction. His eyes dipped down from Kurt's eyes to glance at the forming redness knowingly.

"Kurt!"

"Wow, tell me what you really think." Sebastian said, a small smirk forming on his lips.

"I had to wait months to get anything! And still I had to do those stupid duets-"

"Stupid?" Blaine said in shock.

"No, they were wonderful. I love-" you. "singing with you. I just like solos more."

Blaine looked both hurt and confused. As if he couldn't understand. Actually, Kurt really loved the duets with Blaine... but. He was trying to get over his long time never to happen ever crush. He needed to get over Blaine. Their chance was gone and over with. Sebastian's eyes seemed to twinkle as they glanced between Blaine and Kurt, lingering on Kurt's face as if to rub everything in and make the confusing situation that much worse.


	7. Good Judgement | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light believes that he is a God.

Light was a god and he knew it. He always had been one. What else would a person call the ability to kill another from only one small thought?  
  
It had taken time to come to terms with what he was. As a child and even in his early teen years he had felt as though he was a purposeless god. With no one to ask Light had needed to figure everything out through trial and error.  
  
The death that seemed to surround him was eventually curtailed, he took the power that had always been his back. Light realized that his ability could help people instead of hurt them. He thought, perhaps, that he was always supposed to protect and reform the world. It became even more obvious when he began focusing his energies on the worst criminals of the world.  
  
Maybe Light wasn't born in the wrong place at the wrong time to the wrong parents, maybe he was different for a reason. In the end it didn't matter if he was without puprpose. He created his own path.


	8. Squib | Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dudley gets a letter from Hogwarts. Harry doesn't get anything.

Aunt Petunia always placed the blame at Harry's feet when something went wrong. Whenever something strange happened around the house she would glare at him with a knowing suspiciousness. Harry was punished often for things that he didn't understand.  
  
When Dudley got his letter to Hogwarts, the school for magic, Harry was extremely bitter. Though he should have known better. Dudley always got everything, while Harry never received anything except blame. After that day Harry finally understood why he was punished so harshly. Indignation surged through him as he realized it. He was always being blamed for his cousins wrongdoings.  
  
Of course, that was hardly new. If Dudley pointed his finger it didn't matter what was happening. Dudley was the Dursley's son, he was the one that they believed could do no wrong. Harry was the son of drunkards or, as Harry was starting to suspect, wizards.


	9. Suspects | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light begins to suspect that his sister is Kira. L watches them argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in the end notes (although it's also in the regular warnings too) in case you don't want spoilers.

It's little things that stop Light, make him focus and wonder. Sayu had never shown much of an interest in their fathers work. She would listen politely when Light brought up his ideas about cases that caught his interest on the news.

When Light dived into the Kira case she listened intently and asked him questions often. She talked to Light more often and even brought up the subject. He thought it was because of the case itself. The mystery. Everyone at both of their schools talked about Kira. But something about it worried Light when the thoughts that Light had about L's next move, how Kira might counter those actions, were used soon after by Kira. Every time Light said Kira was making a mistake the problem would correct itself, often in the way that Light told his sister he would have if in the criminals position.

It was strange. Light couldn't help thinking that something was up. That was when he started noticing Sayu's strange behavior. She spent time in her room with the door closed more often. She went to her friends house to spend the night at least twice a week. She worked on her homework and asked for his help with it more often. Their mother said it was simply that Sayu was becoming a teenager. She wasn't a child anymore.

It wasn't until she broke into Light's bedroom that he confronted her.

He marched to her room and opened it without knocking. If she was going to sneak into his room without permission then he wasn't going to be courteous. Sayu was at her desk with her homework laid out around her.

"Light-"

"What did you do in my room?" He asked, not knowing that L was leaning forward in his chair to watch with intense interest.

"I wasn't in your room." She said with confusion.

That made Light pause. She looked like she was telling the truth. He knew what Sayu looked like when she was lying, he'd grown up with her, she'd been lying for weeks. But he knew that someone had broken into his room. His door had been messed with. Was Sayu really becoming such a good liar? Was she Kira after all?

"I know that someone has been in my room." He said, persistent. He had to be sure.

Sayu stood up, crossing her arms.

"I haven't been in your room. How do you even know that someone has."

"I know because I booby-trap my door. Now I'll have to change the way I do it, thanks to you."

She stared at him in silence for a moment.

"You are such a freak. Who even does that?"

"I'm not-" Light stopped himself and took a deep breath. Defending himself wasn't the point. Besides, if he hadn't set the trap then he wouldn't have known that Sayu broke in.

"You've been acting differently for weeks. I'm starting to get suspicious."

"It wasn't me." She said quietly, thoughtful.

"Well who was it then? Mom?"

 "Yeah, it was mom, because it wasn't me." She said.

Now she was lying. Light was sure of it. Frustrated, he left the room and spent the next few minutes standing thinking through a new security measure for his door. Avoiding the thought that Sayu was possibly Kira. This was paranoid even for him, but his instincts about these sorts of things had never been wrong and he had been following his fathers cases actively from the age of eight.

Unknown to Light the detective L was watching the siblings suspiciously too. One of the siblings had to be Kira. Was it Light, his first suspect, throwing off the investigation by implicating his own sister? Was it Sayu Yagami? Gaining information about Kira from her older brother?

After the argument Light noticed that Sayu's behavior changed. She started to act less suspiciously. Almost normal. It wasn't long after that when Light found the first camera in his room.  

 

Light doesn't know what to think. Ever since he spoke to her she has acted as though it didn't happen. More then that, she acts as though she doesn't remember the conversation to begin with. The killings still happen though. She's back to normal. Does she have an accomplice? When he follows her she doesn't go to the friends house for a sleepover, she goes to a new friend that Light has never seen before. Its strange. Light doesn't say anything about it. What would he say? He doesn't have proof. It's just a friend that their parents wouldn't approve of on the surface. Light thinks that it's more then that. It's Kira, isn't it?

She doesn't ask about Kira or work on her homework as often. It's as though she's changed back to who she was before the Kira case. He doesn't want to say anything with the cameras everywhere. After internally freaking out for a long minute he searched for more. They were everywhere. It made him realize that Sayu was telling the truth. She hadn't snuck into his room that day. But someone had and to his disappointment it only raised Light's suspicion of her even more.

She must have realized that someone else went into Light's room, figured out that someone set up cameras and changed her behavior so that she wouldn't be caught. Maybe Light was giving her too much credit. But Sayu could be crafty when she wanted to be. He could think of multiple ways that she might go about throwing off suspicion, she only needed to think of one.

Light talked to her again one afternoon after he'd talked to his dad and the cameras were removed. What he didn't know was that only half of the surveillance cameras were actually removed. Sayu had been acting fidgety. It was as though she somehow knew that she was hiding something again. He was starting to think that she really was capable of manipulating her own memories. If Kira could supernaturally give criminals heart attacks then who was he to say that Kira couldn't do more?

When he asks her about Kira this time she's ready. He wonders if she's been waiting for the other shoe to drop in regards to Light.  

"You've either lost your memories of being Kira or you're a very good liar." He finally says outright. He's being crazy. It's a good thing their mother is out or she would have called their father to stage a family intervention.

"Are you crazy?" Sayu asked, glaring. She really was getting better at lying but something was off. She had this air of confidence that couldn't be mistaken for indignation. She wasn't offended that he was calling her something she wasn't. The more he said the more he realized that his ideas were dead on. He just needed her to tell him how she was doing it. Then he could stop her. Convince her to stop before it was too late and the police caught her.

"I know you are Kira. Tell me whose making you do this. I can help. We'll make them stop. No one ever has to know about this. If the killings stop their wont be any evidence. I wont tell, Sayu, trust me."

"I'm not Kira. Do you hear how completely paranoid you sound?" She shouted before walking out of the room and slamming it behind her. He followed behind her. He did sound paranoid. She could have been doing something else that was bad. Not murderous level bad, just regular rebellious teenager level bad. It didn't explain why when he told Sayu things about the Kira case it effected the way that Kira acted though. It didn't explain that-

"Sayu." He called, knocking on the door and then resting his head on it when she told him to go away.

"You looked guilty. You looked so guilty when Lind L. Taylor died. That wasn't shock or worry. I know you. Sayu, it was guilt. Please explain that. Why did you ask me about death, right before Kira started killing criminals. Tell me. Explain, please."

"I- I don't know. I don't remember. I already told you I just wanted to impress my friends by knowing stuff about the investigation. I'm not Kira."

"... I hope so. I really hope that's the truth." He said. He wanted to believe that his little sister wasn't capable of that. "But I'm not convinced."

"God, Light!" She yelled, hitting the door between them. "Why are you so persistent?" She shouted. He didn't know what was going through her mind, her voice sounded wobbly. Light hated hearing Sayu sound that way but he couldn't help it. He knew that something was wrong. It might not have been about Kira, in that case he was really ruining his relationship with his sibling, but if she was Kira and he let her continue doing this he didn't know how far it would go. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ignored it.

"What you're saying and what you're doing don't fit. Why have you been lying about going to your friends house to sleepover? Who is that person?"

"They aren't Kira either. They're just a friend."

"I think they are Kira. I think you both are. They're the one that killed Lind L. Taylor when you were with me, weren't they? Prove me wrong. I'll say I'm sorry and everything will go back to normal."

"... I'm not Kira." Sayu murmured quietly. She sounded tired and Light was too.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Sayu said, but it sounded like a no.

"Well, if you aren't Kira then I don't need to tell you that killing is wrong."

"You said before that some criminals deserve to die."

"If they're proven guilty, if it's decided in a courtroom that they should get the death penalty... Kira can stop now and wont be caught. They could just stop."

In another room far away L watched them closely.

"Light is quite the detective Mr. Yagami."

It was quiet for a long time.

"Sayu?"

Light sighed when she didn't answer and left. He didn't know that that would be the last conversation he had with his little sister, didn't know that it wasn't a private conversation but one that was overheard by L and his father. He didn't know that his words had made it through to Sayu, she decided that she wanted to stop being Kira. He found out later who that friend of Sayu's was though when they were caught. But it didn't change that fact that his little sister was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character Death


	10. Obliviate | Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Obliviate that Gilderoy Lockhart cast failed in a different way. Spectacular.

_“OBLIVIATE!”_  
  
Lockhart roared, waving Ron’s wand with a theatrical little zigzagging motion. Ron’s eyes clamped tightly shut at the sight and Harry watched closely as orange sparks crackled loudly from the snapped twigs of the broken wand before, with a final chocking white-pink fume, the smoke forming dissipated and the wand fell apart pathetically.  
  
Nothing at all bad happened.  
  
“Thank goodness.” Ron whispered through a small sigh when he opened his eyes to see that nothing had changed.

Harry could only nod as he quickly plucked his own wand out of pocket. Pointing it at the abashed Defense Professor.  
   
“Let’s go. Hands above your head where I can see them, Lockhart. Walk in front of us.” he ordered, wishing for a moment that the mind spell their Professor had attempted on them had just turned on the idiot. It would have been a lot less troublesome.

 

Ron followed by Harry’s side, keeping a close eye on Lockhart and trying to ignore the dank halls that made up the Chamber of Secrets. Why would anyone make a place like this, even Slytherin? It was disgusting and it didn’t skip his mind that the rounded passage ways could fit a very large, hungry snake. Rat’s were scurrying around, spiders even.  
  
“Shouldn’t we have brought mirrors?” he asked.  
  
Harry glanced at him with a somber look before shrugging slightly and continuing on with their trek. Ron knew what that meant. You're right. But I forgot. Don’t ask. This was turning out bloody marvelously. Now that they were just walking Ron couldn’t help but realize that walking around down here to look for Ginny while a giant people eating basilisk was down here too wasn’t a good plan. Bringing Lockhart along wasn’t a good idea either, what a surprise. Could the monster smell sweat? He quickly wiped off his palms; then wondered if the monster would smell the sweat on his robes and gobble him up anyways.  
  
“I don’t see anything down here yet; maybe we should just head back up? My arms are getting tired too. Do I have to hold them up over my head like this?” Lockhart asked, again. The man was like a broken record. But Harry was like a Auror or a stubborn Azkaban guard, unmoved, with his wand directed unwaveringly at Lockhart's back and his green eyes glowing darkly. Ready incase the man got any ideas.  
  
“Keeping walking.” Harry said, and Lockhart sighed and Harry looked bored and Ron stared at the floor where random rocks were. 

Then he looked back up at Lockhart who would probably say something about how much his arms pained him from having to hold them up like that, how they should just go back up. It made a good distraction from thoughts about Ginny. Alone somewhere in this place.  
   
“My word! It looks like we’ve reached a dead end boy’s, well-“

Lockhart froze though at the sound of Harry’s voice which was now slowly hissing at the stone snake door that stood before them.  
  
His green eyes glazed over as he… spoke. It was definitely a little freaky. He exchanged a wide eyed glance with Lockhart in unspoken agreement over the thought before he remembered that Lockhart had broken his wand (... Ron could have still used it for awhile longer no matter what anyone else said) and he glared at the dunderhead as menacingly as he could.  
  
“Sssss.”  
  
The door opened.  
  
In a way it was kind of neat.  
  
“Okay, Lockhart, you first.” Harry hissed. His green eyes becoming focused and clear again.  
  
This really wasn’t Lockhart’s day Ron thought as the fearful man shivered and stepped through the opening.  
  
“Oh dear God, she’s-” Ron heard from the other side and that was enough to make him go through the doorway too. Clear across the chamber Ginny lied in a puddle of water underneath Slytherin's statue.  
  
“GINNY!” He shouted, running over to lift her little body up.  
  
“Your freezing Ginny, Ginny wake up." he held her close. Afraid to shake her too much but wanting to wake his sister up from the stillness. They needed to get out of here and Ginny needed to wake up. He held his hand gently above her mouth to check if she was breathing.  
  
“Ginny… Harry, Ginny’s breathing but-“  
  
“Ron” Harry interrupted. His face was pale as he stared past Ginny to a dark book.  
  
“It’s the diary.” Harry said quietly, he seemed curiously worried which was a nice contrast to Ron’s confused and worried.  
  
“True. She won’t wake up.” A new voiced startled them all. Who was this, Slytherin's heir? Ron held Ginny closer to himself.  
  
“Tom?” Harry asked.  
  
Lockhart, who was still staring at Harry’s wand worriedly, looked up to see a student that was actually better looking than he was. Ron would have laughed at any other time. Was this Tom Riddle, the one from the diary?  
   
“There’s a basilisk somewhere. Tom we need to get out of here.” Harry was saying, but Tom looked unhurried.

Ron's heart was beating quickly.

 

"Tell me, how is it that a baby could defeat the greatest sorcerer in the world?" Tom asked forebodingy.  
  
“He has connections of course. It was a scam” Lockhart scoffed distractedly.

The three boys turned to the look at their interrupter doubtfully. Apparently, their faces appeared curious too because the wizard continued.  
  
“Please kitties, a new born finishing off the scariest villain in all of history? Where do you think I got the idea to write all of my books?”

 

“So what _you’re_ saying is that my parents joyfully decided to commit suicide along with Voldemort so that I could be... Famous.” Harry asked.

“I wouldn’t say joyfully.” Lockhart nodded slowly.  
  
“And I suppose they all decided to horrifically scar me for, like, life to “spice up” the story too?” Harry fumed incredulously, more obviously angry now.  
  
Lockhart blinked in the face of Harry’s rage before looking to Ron and Tom with a 'What did I say?' face.  
  
Neither of them had any sympathy for the man.

 

Lockhart, who had been closer, grabbed the wand first.  
  
“Oh, bother.” Ron spat.  
  
"AH-HAH!" Lockhart shouted and swung Harry’s wand around, shouting “Obliviate” again. Harry dived away and Ron put down Ginny and raced toward the man. He yanked the wand out of the Lockhart’s lotion covered fingers.  
  
“Aug.” Harry shouted. Ron jumped over to Harry who clutched at his stomach; he must not have dodged quickly enough! Now they could only wait to see how Lockhart had messed everything up this time.  
  
Ron desperately hoped that it wasn't lethal.  
  
“ACHoo” Harry sneezed. Then he sneezed three more times.  
  
“Harry?” Ron asked slowly…  
  
“…I can’t, I can’t- ACHOO stop!” he sneezed again. Oh great, a sneezing hex or something? How did Lockhart _do_ that?  
  
“Well… at least you’re only sneezing.” he ventured optimistically.  
  
Harry immediately started throwing up slugs in between his sneezes.  
  
“Oh gross.” Ron stepped back quickly, feeling guilty for saying anything as he remembered his own slug incident earlier in the year. What were the chances of something like this happening again, really?  
  
“Umm.” Ron fidgeted.  
  
Harry glared at him from beside Ginny. Tom Riddle laughed from the side lines.

Feeling the need to do something important Ron pointed his wand at Lockhart.  
  
“Stupify.”  
  
Lockhart dodged, flinging his hands into the air repentantly.  
  
“I'm sorry!”  
  
This really was too much effort.  
  
“Just, just go stand in the corner without saying anything. No, not that corner. Away from the door, the one near the statue. There. Try anything and chances are you’ll be feeling worse than Harry when I’m through with you, considering that I can actually cast more than half of the spells that I know. Including the slug one.”  
  
He thought this threat sounded much more valid with the sound of Harry’s puking in the background. Taking a deep breath Ron turned back to Tom Riddle.  
  
“You were saying?” he asked.

 

“Oh my God, it’s Voldemort.” Harry spit up between throwing up slugs as Ron shouted “Oh my God it’s Vold- You Know Who!”  
  
“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.” Harry muttered.  
  
“That’s amazing, I’ll need to write that down.” Lockhart’s said with gleaming eyes from a distance. Everyone ignored him.  
  
“Who're you quoting at a time like this?” Ron wailed, his index finger still pointed all knowingly at the blood red letters in question.  
  
“Dumbl-u-yuck-ss a great man” Harry vomited up another slug. The sneezing had died down but the slugs seemed to have taken over with a new vengeance. Lockhart still stood bobbing up and down on the heels of his feet from his corner.

 

The Professor's fearful eyes kept falling on the dead basilisk and zipping towards the exit. Ron immediately raised Harry’s wand toward the idiot.  
  
“Don’t even think about it, Professor. I’ll petrify you.”  
  
“Jus- let him go.” Harry muttered. “I don’t want to die next to his ugly face anyways.”  
  
“Ugly!” Lockhart squealed, deeply offended.  
  
“Very ugly. Super ugly.” Ron rolled his eyes before ignoring the now teary eyed Professor.  
  
“Sorry, Harry. But I care too much about our lives to let HIM get out of here and make up stupid, FALSE stories about our deaths.”  
  
“…They’ll be heroic stories.” Lockhart hiccupped from in between his tears.  
  
“NO!”  
  
“The book.” Harry whispered urgently.  
  
“OH, right!” Ron raced over to it. Waving Harry’s wand he cast an incendio at the thing. It didn’t work, the huge fire part did alright but the book just sort of sat there unharmed.  
  
Riddle was now laughing even more than before.  
  
“Um, new idea Harry?”  
  
“Attack Riddle?” Harry muttered. Ron swung the wand around to jab it toward the near corporeal Voldemort.  
  
“Right Right. Wait WAIT, you want me to fight _Voldemort_ … directly?” He paled in horror.  
  
“Yeah…” Harry stared at him blandly, so that’s exactly what he meant.  
  
“Are you crazy? Hell on a slow broomstick no!” Ron yelped.  
  
“What?” Harry looked confused and Ron decided that the mind spell must have damaged him a bit more than Ron had first thought.  
  
“Of course not. _He’s_ Voldemort. He’ll- he’ll kill me before I even raise my wand!” Ron waved the brown stick around for emphasis. Harry rolled his eyes, looking annoyed.  
  
“He just sicked his basilisk on us Ron. He’s already going to kill us.”  
  
“But he’s-“  
  
“What type of a Gryffindor are you? He doesn’t even have a wand. Just do it!” Harry ordered, nudging him with his feet. “For Ginny.” his friend added underhandedly for good measure. Ron felt his throat seize up as he turned to face the now even more corporeal looking teenager.  
  
“He’s looking at me funny.” Ron whispered. He really hoped it wasn’t a lethal look that he was getting.  
  
“That’s just because his eyes are red now, will you hurry up? Ginny’s getting cold.” Harry said, sounding fed up.  
  
“Petrificus Totalus!” Ron shouted. The spell shot through Riddle who stood there with a widening smirk on his face. Apparently that wasn’t going to work either.  
  
“Did it work?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Harry shakily tried to stand back up but then fell over again right into the wiggling slugs. By the corner Lockhart made a sour face.  
  
Ron watched his choking friend as he tried to roll away while spluttering up slugs and attempting to breathe. Maybe slugs were scarier than spiders?  
  
Eventually Ron was able snap out of his dazed horror long enough to grab a hold of the back of Harry’s robes and Drag him over to Ginny with his free hand.  
  
It helped that Harry was trying just as hard to get away.  
  
“Um… How ‘bout you stay here with Ginny mate?”  
  
Miserably Harry nodded his head in defeat, slumping down and wetly sneezing on Ginny neck. At least it wasn’t a slug...  
  
“Right, try to keep breathing, I’ll just… “ Ron gulped, looking up into Tom Riddle’s eyes. What was he going to do?

 

Suddenly, Harry clenched Ron’s leg.  
  
“Don’t you dwaargge-” Ron thought he might be saying ‘don’t you dare’ but was a bit more preoccupied with the fact that Harry had just bit into a traveling slug, red guts spilling from his mouth somehow making his friends eyes look an even fiercer green.  
  
“Eeep.”  
  
Then Harry pulled the bottom half of the slug from his mouth, took the time to glare at Lockhart, and then handed Ron a sword before passing out.  
  
“What’s that?” Lockhart asked nervously.  
  
“A sword.” Riddle said, more to himself.  
  
“Why did he look at me? I didn’t like his look. Why didn't he look at You-Know-Who like that instead of me?" Lockhart was asking worriedly.  
  
“Maybe he wants me to kill you with it.” Ron mused. Tightening his grip on the sword.  
   
“WHAT?” Lockhart shouted fearfully.  
  
“It was really terrible, Lockhart’s clumsy feet just heroically tripped on the sword.” Ron spoke slowly, edging his way toward the snake statue corner.  
  
“WHA-" the DADA Professor leaped three feet back.  
  
“I’m going to KILL you.” Ron raised Gryffindor's sword above his head, Lockhart hollered in fright, Riddle watched in dawning surprise from where he stood by the unconscious Harry and Ginny’s side.  
  
“NO!” Voldemort screamed.  
  
Ron pierced Godric Gryffindor's sword right though the empty journal.


	11. Hungry to Win the Game | Death Note & Hunger Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in the Capital knows that Light Yagami and L Lawliet are fierce rivals. Two years ago L mentored Mello to victory. The next year Light mentored the infamous Mikami, only the most recent victors in a long line of victors mentored by them.
> 
> This is just another year of the same. Though it may be the most difficult case that either of them have faced until now. L has his work cut out for him with the solitary and anti-social Near that the citizens are rather repulsed by. But Light has an idiot named Matsuda who may not survive his first night in the game much less become a victor. It looks like a new victor from another district will rise from the ashes, but Light and L will do anything to win.

"Looks like this year is all mine L." Light Yagami said from his reclined position on the couch, smirk hidden behind a glass of red wine.

L stayed quiet from his customary crouched position beside the younger man. Fingers tapping against his raised knees.

Before them in high definition stood the handsome young man who looked up at the screens with wide eyes. They both knew that he would be able to garner sympathy easily from the sponsors, with Light's guidance that is. He was definitely teachable.

L didn't say anything but he would have liked to have grimaced. His own tribute hadn't even dressed properly for the reaping. Hair flung every which way and dressed in pajamas. Light had joked that Near was a miniature, albino version of L but even L had worn a suit and combed his hair on the day of his reaping. He had earned the right to go back to his preferred wardrobe in the confines of his mansion when he became a victor, the great L.

A loud crash echoed from the screen.

"It seems that you might have spoken too soon, Light. My tribute doesn't have two left feet at least." L said as the young man tripped, gasps spilling through the quiet crowed. Maybe L's case wasn't completely hopeless, Light's tribute was a doofus.

Misa Amane was making a racket as usual.  Her arms waving dramatically from the stand. Neither of them paid attention to what she said. Instead watching as the man stumbled quickly to his feet and scratched the back of his head nervously. The somewhat cool air that had been carried over from his appearance solely quickly dissipating as he made an even bigger fool out of himself by trying to make it to his place faster while apologizing only to stumble and fall again in his haste.

Light sighed tiredly and leaned back against the couch. Thinking about the conversations he would have to have in order to smooth this disaster over. Calculating how much training would have to be put in to get Matsuda in shape for the game itself. If the man tripped like that during the cornucopia Light didn't want to imagine the jibes L would make, likely for their audiences pleasure too, for the rest of their lives.

At least Matsuda didn't look like a mental patient and was old enough to stand a chance if he made it through the first twenty minutes.

Near was young, unfortunately, and not in an adorable way that might have gotten him into people's good books. The boy was just young which meant that he would break easily.

Little bird bones, L thought disparagingly to himself. He had been much the same when he was reaped. Freshly plucked on his first reaping, no confident older sibling like Light to volunteer in his stead. Though in the end he hadn't needed one. Watari had taken L under his wing. Determined to see him through to the end, and that was what L would be for this young child.

Near, at least, had what might have been construed as a determined glint in his eye. It was difficult to say for sure. The blank expression had been an excellent poker face and hadn't been of much use in gauging the boys temperament. L would need to create a whole new game plan for Near than he had used for Mello, one of his more recent successes.

Light was thinking much the same thing as he watched his new tribute and compared him unfavorably to Mikami, his last tribute.


	12. First Meeting | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light is a sociable little manipulator that's lived at Wammy's for most of his young life. L is the mysterious new specimen with sharp eyes that Mr. Wammy has brought to the house.

The footprints trail across the yard in a straight line all the way up to the big gate. From it Light peaks through the bars, white mittens protecting his hands from the cold just barely. He rests a cheek against the frosty metal and shivers. His curiosity brings him out once again to watch as Wammy leads a new orphan up to the building. This one has shaggy black hair and looks taller than Light, he might be older but Light can't tell for sure if he's simply tall for his age. Either way Light will be the first, after Mr. Wammy of course, to find out. Light is always the first one to greet newcomers.

There are a lot of good reasons to meet them. For one thing, being sociable makes Light look good. Mr. Wammy's smile is always particularly bright when he spots Light at the entrance, and word gets around. Everyone knows who Light is, they know K. His presence doesn't fade like so many others do, no one confuses him for someone else. Many of the students remember him as the first one to have shown them kindness, and Light tries to make that impression stick no matter what.

It's proven useful to be popular. It gets him food and information and appreciation. Wammy House is full of antisocial misfits, lonely kids, and it doesn't take much effort to befriend them. The benefits are worth the cost. Light likes being seen as reliable and kind, even if he thinks everyone is weird he can't deny that their intelligence makes them useful. What most of the students here don't realize or do realize and can't put into action, is that it's good to make connections. So Light trudges up the gates, rain or shine and in this case snow, to be the first to welcome any new resident.

In this case it's a little boy. Light observes as the boy hops out of the car and takes a hold of Mr. Wammy's outstretched hand. Mr. Wammy must like this one, because he takes a moment to crouch in the wet snow and say some words to him. He doesn't always do that. Light watches as the elderly man stands again and retakes the little hand.

They walk up to Wammy's slowly and Light finally gets a closer look. The boys eyes are piercing. They take in the orphanage, the group of kids that decided to risk exposure to play in the snow, the gate, and Light. The boy takes it all in with a calm expression. Calm with a smidge of a spark of something, perhaps hope. But Light wont make assumptions. He's seen where assumptions get others.

He smiles his favorite smile. The one that's gotten him extra cookies from the lunch lady. He's looked at it in the mirror and thinks he understands, it's sweet and soft. If he tried smiling like he does when he's really laughing about something he looks a bit unsettling so he doesn't try that grin. Instead he tries to focus on making his eyes radiate warmth, that's the hardest and most important part.

The other boy doesn't outwardly react much, his expression stays the same. Calm, Light doesn't even detect curiosity exactly, but the boy turns towards him and Light can feel the focus. If this happened the first time he ever did this he might have stepped back under the scrutiny. He's met all sorts at this point though so instead he waits it out. Releasing one of his hand from the bar to wave gently. When Mr. Wammy gets close Light steps back to run closer to the gate, a laugh in his voice as he gets to them.

"Mr. Wammy. We're having cocoa today." Light said, the words falling easily from his lips despite not having practiced them.

He thought the man might appreciate the news. Not because he was a chocoholic but simply because of all the lovely things that the thought of a nice steamy cup of it tended to create. Light was learning all about imagery in his writing class. Fortunately the real subject of Light's interest perked up at this. All children liked chocolate. Light thought with a satisfaction that never showed.

"I can show you where the cafeteria is, if you'd like?" Light asked gently, pretending to notice the boys shuffling a moment later.

Before the boy could answer Mr. Wammy spoke up.

"That would be a wonderful idea K. L, this is K, K if you aren't busy would you mind giving L here a tour of our house while I get the luggage."

"Of course Mr. Wammy." Light said dutifully.

The man smiled gratefully and told them to meet him in his office in half an hour.

Light jumped forward and grabbed L's hand and led the boy away, pointing out everything of interest, naming a few of the students who had stopped to wave at Light as they passed, and most importantly asking L all about himself. Light would never understand why this first meeting, not any of the others, was the start of something new.


	13. A New Explorer | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After he dies Light becomes a Shinigami, like all the humans that use the Death Note. He doesn't remember his old life and Ryuk is too busy to recognize the new Shinigami.

Ryuk is one of the peculiar ones, more interested in other realms than the usual leisure activities that most of the Shinigami participate in.

Most of the old Shinigami say that he's always been that way.

Never satisfied. Never sedate. Always needing something new, something entertaining, and never being able to find it. The other Shinigami can't understand Ryuk. But Kira thinks that he can. Even though he is new to this life.

Something about the other Shinigami is active in a way that Kira wants to try being. Over the span of sixteen months Kira has been playing cards with the others. Keeping is eyes on the game. Kira refrains from glancing at Ryuk, who comes back from the human realm when he must with an irritable air about him.

Kira definitely doesn't think about the odd Shinigami, though that doesn't mean that the others are not chatty. They say that Ryuk hasn't been happy since he killed his favorite human. They say that Ryuk is depressed because he can't find a replacement that is as fun. Kira thinks that it serves the Shinigami right. Something about seeing Ryuk ruffled, distressed, pleases him. From the beginning Kira has disliked Ryuk. He doesn't understand it, maybe it's simple instinct, but he knows not to trust the Shinigami Ryuk. He feels heavy, almost distractingly... cold and yet hot, angry, whenever he sees Ryuk. He hates Ryuk.

Ryuk talking about apples.

Ryuk complaining about the boring humans.

Ryuk never taking notice of Kira during those brief trips back to the Shinigami realm.

The human realm doesn't interest him, for some reason he thinks it would only bore him. That is the main reason that he doesn't follow Ryuk down. As he plays cards with the other Shinigami Kira starts to think about what he wants to do with himself. He isn't like Ryuk, or those other Shinigami that he has been told about. The Shinigami that stare into other worlds with watchful eyes, looking for who knows what. Neither is Kira like the Shinigami that surround him now.

He doesn't think that he can stand it here, wasting his life away, for more than he already has. He gets why Ryuk and the other peculiar Shinigami decided to leave. Kira will too soon. But he won't leave the Shinigami realm. He's been thinking about it.

This world interests him.

Honestly, Kira doesn't get why this world isn't being explored more. As far a he knows, the Shinigami have set up their camp in this one place, and have never moved since. Kira can understand why Ryuk sees the humans as more fun in comparison. Everything is occupied, explored, in the other worlds. There are maps, inventions, foods in the other realms. Kira was shown those places when he first came here, so that he could use his Death Note. He has looked but decided that there was nothing unusual about any particular world. But this world was different. This world was unexplored, unnamed, apparently, and though this world was a wasteland Kira doesn't understand why it hasn't been traveled.

Or, maybe it had been traveled and Kira was just too young to remember? Even if that was the case, it seemed that the old Shinigami had forgotten either way. When Kira asked about this world the others had very little to say that wasn't about the immediate area or the games that they played.

Games seemed to be all that the old Shinigami knew.

Kira felt as though he had been playing games his entire life. Because he had been. But it felt like more than that, he felt as though he had been playing games for even longer than that.

It needed to stop.

This game wasn't fun anymore, so Kira stood up as he won for however many times in row that he had won, and he decided to leave.

"Kira? Where are you going?"

The young Shinigami honestly had no idea.

"To look around." He replied simply. As he walked away he could hear the old Shinigami chatting behind him.

"Kira always was a peculiar one, wasn't he?"

Kira doesn't take notice of Ryuk who has just come back from another one of his fruitless trips. He doesn't see Ryuk look at him as he stands up, excusing himself from the game.

Mem Mem, a female Shinigami that is almost the same age as Kira, quickly stands up from her own seat when she sees that he is leaving.

Kira still doesn't know what to think of Mem... she is an annoying, flirty creature that has a lot of love and trust in her heart for him. Though he couldn't say why. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he is one of the closest to her age, only a little bit older than her.

For whatever reason she feels familiar to Kira too. He doesn't enjoy her company, yet he placates her for the most part almost like a forgotten habit.

Today he won't though. He usually allows her to tag along in his wake. Right now he doesn't think that he can explore the world properly if she is bothering him with her constant commentary and strong hugs.

When he tells her to leave she doesn't. She keeps following him until he finally turns on her.

"Stop following me around Misa." He shouted. The sound an echo in the wasteland.

The female Shinigami paused in her pursuit, staring at him in shock.

"My name is Mem Mem." She said quietly, then she burst into loud tears.

"Kira doesn't know my name."

"I- I do remember it. I... apologize Mem." Kira said, trying to comfort her. He didn't know why he'd said her name like that. Misa. Misa.

Mem was an annoying Shinigami, that was strangely over-attatched to Kira, but she was the closest thing to a friend that Kira had. The only problem with his predicament was that he didn't want friends. Now though, as everyone was starring at them weirdly from a distance, Kira had a feeling that he would have to take the younger girl with him. Mem Mem was well liked by everyone, except for maybe Thrd who was one of the new Shinigami as well.

But Thrd was hateful towards everyone. That young Shinigami was barely older than Mem, and very peculiar. He had never sat down to play cards and instead he had immediately went to watch the humans, sending a strangely dark look in Kira's direction. Kira still had no idea what that glance had been about. But Thrd seemed to have a perpetually sour expression on his face, and he was constantly writing in his Death Note.

Kira himself went every afternoon to write down names, because it was his job. The Shinigami King had told him that he could do whatever he wanted but that it was the job of Shinigami to cull the lifespan of all creatures of the worlds.

Kira took the work seriously, having a feeling that the older Shinigami had long since forgotten the words of their King.

Mem would go with him once a week to do the same.

Thrd, of course, found that Kira was killing in the wrong way. He said that they should only take the lives of evil doers.

Kira had looked down at the human world, its people, the planet that Thrd had been looking at with shining eyes and shook his head.

"If we did that, then we would have to exterminate all of them. Then where would we be Thrd?"

Mem had nodded in agreementt as Thrd glared on unapprovingly. After that day Kira knew Thrd had liked him even less.

As he and Misa were about to leave, Thrd eyeing them suspiciously from his appointed vigil by the portal, Ryuk called out to Kira. Addressing him for the first time.

"Kira?"

"Come to the human world with me Kira? It's much more fun than this one." His smile seemed to say that they would never be bored.

Kira thought about it or pretended to at least.  

"This world is only less fun because it hasn't been cultivated yet."

Ryuk was looking at him with an attentive, knowing interest that made Kira waver. It seemed like it would be natural to explain his thought process to the Shinigami. Like feeding a dog scraps. A stray dog that might lick his palms willingly one day and bite the next. Kira suspected that the older Shinigmi would appreciate his vision nonetheless so he found himself nodding towards Thrd and his portal.

"The human world is already filled up. It's a waste of time to try and fix it the way Thrd is trying. When we already have the makings of a utopia right here."

Ryuk was listening closely, smile gone and looking at Kira as though he really saw him.

"There is no crime here, even if there was the King would punish trespassers so severely that it wouldn't matter. This world of dust and decay," Kira said softly, plucking a rotting apple from a tree and tossing it from one palm to the other just gently enough so as not to break it.

"Is the closest thing to perfect that there is. It will be perfect, actually, when I'm finished." Kira said. He crushed the apple to dust in his clawed hand.

Ryuk only stared at Kira, a strange gleam filing his eyes as a toothy smile spread across his face.

 

Kira walked until the camp of Shinigami could no longer be seen. Until even the dried scraps of plant life were gone. All that could be seen around them was sky and land. What looked like mountains standing on the horizon.

Unaffected by fatigue Kira merely continued onwards, he hadn't expected anything more yet. Though it was at this point that his companions began to complain.

Especially Ryuk who wanted apples. Kira couldn't imagine why, thinking about the dry and disgusting fruit. He ignored the incessant nagging for awhile longer.

Mem Mem he was used to. All that was necessary to placate the younger girl was a backward glance and smile. She found him attractive for some unfathomable reason. All Shinigami were ugly as sin including himself. Mem had always been different though and Kira suspected that her attachment to him went beyond that of surface attraction. Kira thought nothing of it except to use it to his advantage.

Ryuk was a different story.

"Lets go to the mountain." Kira told Mem, watching her sagging shoulders straighten up at his attention. Reminding Kira of a flower reaching up to bask in the sunlight. Yellow like the daffodils that Mem had once pointed out admiringly to him.

"That's too far. It'll already take an entire day to get more apples." Ryuk said whilst twisting around. The Shinigami's talk of apples was really beginning to grate.

"Then turn around and go back now. Neither of us invited you to come Ryuk." He hissed with displeasure.

Kira had little patience for the absurd addictions that many Shinigami procured, and for Ryuk in particular he almost felt pleasure at the sight of hunger pains. 

He still hated Ryuk deep beneath his serene veneer. All he needed was an opportunity to shake the Shinigami loose, possibly leave Ryuk for dead somewhere else on the planet. He didn't think through all the complaining that either Ryuk or Mem had actually paid enough attention to be able to make their way back by themselves. If they had Ryuk would have gone back when he realized the excitement that Kira had been describing wasn't an immediate thing. It would obviously take time, _if_ they found something, but neither one of his companions seemed to have grasped that concept fully yet.

Kira rolled his eyes.

"This walk is boring. We've been doing this forever and haven't found anything fun. You don't even say anything to us." Ryuk whined once more, repeating some more of his complaints as though he could gain Kira's sympathy if he just kept saying what he didn't like in different ways. Kira understood Ryuk's reasons for displeasure just fine, he simply didn't care. Ryuk was the one that was misunderstanding this situation and to add insult to injury Ryuk said it again.

"I need an _apple_. You don't understand."

Kira turned around, startling the Shinigami who hadn't expected a response.

"I do understand. You want apples. I entreat you to go get them." Kira said, pulling together the last reserves of his serenity. Ryuk stared at him with a worried frown and Kira smiled at him gently, at least by Shinigami standards, "Mem and I will go ahead to the mountain. We'll wait for you their, Ryuk, until you come back with enough apples to tide you over for our journey." Kira lied.

It would be simple enough to convince Mem that Ryuk wouldn't be coming back. Afterwards, even if Ryuk somehow found his way back with the faulty directions that Kira would graciously bestow they would never be found. Satisfaction welled as Kira pictured Ryuk lost in the wasteland. Kira's chest squeezed tight- like a faded memory was trying to resurface- before loosening as he watched Ryuk's body twist into circles.

"You fucking liar Li- Kira." Ryuk nearly yelled, voice raised and eyes narrowed suspiciously. Kira almost sighed.

"Don't talk to my Kira like that!" Mem Mem immediately shouted. Moving in between them to better make her point, she hit Ryuk with the only thing she had on hand, her death note. Ryuk looked disgruntled by that. Irritation disappearing as he shielded himself from the smarting blows. Kira watched the scene they made pass regally for awhile. At times Mem made a good guard dog.

When she didn't seem to be willing to stop and Ryuk took out his own death note with a shout Kira's humor over the situation lessened and kept lessening as the two grew louder and more violent. Fights between Shinigami weren't common, usually only happening if one was caught cheating at a game, but often went on ad nauseam until the metaphorical death. It could take minutes or hours as Shinigami never tired out and were at times confused over what was or wasn't a killing blow, which lead to lengthy debates as no one ever wanted to check. Light had been intrigued by the curious way of solving disputes; at least until he bore witness to a seven hour long tussle that interrupted a game of cards he was winning. After that he had come to dislike the ritual.

It would be simpler, faster if the King decided things instead of leaving everything to his Shinigami. Kira would never understand having an entire world and leaving it to rot.

Taking up his scythe he brought it down between Mem and Ryuk as a distraction. Stale air blowing dust at them as his weapon hit the ground.

"Enough fighting." he said, red eyes focusing the older Shinigami.

Ryuk only twisted his body some more, looking reluctant and tense.

"Ryuk, I may never return and if you follow me that means you may never see an apple again, do you understand?"

Ryuk gaped at him so Light didn't let any of the amusement he felt at the others expense from showing, only spoke the truth in a matter of face manner as he continued.

"If that is too much for you then turn back now. But know that I will not wait for you."

They stood there, silence stretching out as the Ryuk slowly made sense of the words and then thought them through.

"... If I go back I might never see.... never again." Ryuk was muttering to himself. "But... apples." Ryuk huffed before finally, slowly, detangling himself.

"You'll never go back. Why?" He asked.

Light titled his head to the side. Why did this old Shinigami even want to know? Why was it standing there and thinking things over when Kira knew, knew, that nothing was more important to the idiot Shinigami then its addiction. Especially not Kira. Learning that he would never eat an apple again if he followed Kira should have sent him running. Any Shinigami would have ran, except for Mem but that was only because _her_ addiction, for some unfathomable reason, was Kira himself. But instead of turning away Ryuk asked him questions and weighed his options like following someone he'd never paid more than a second glance to before today to the ends of this planet was reasonable.

"I have nothing to go back to." Kira gave Ryuk the simple answer though he didn't think the Shinigami would be able comprehend how intensely Kira felt that he'd needed to leave that place behind him.

"What about when you need to write in your notebook?"

"I have about 200 years. I might consider going back then." Kira admitted. He wasn't suicidal. 

"I'll go, with you." Ryuk decided at last.

Light just nodded, and then added as an afterthought.

"No more talk of apples then."

Ryuk looked pained and Kira turned around swiftly to hide his smirk. He didn't understand or care to learn why the Shinigami stayed, Ryuk could torture himself however he liked, Kira was only pleased that the Shinigami was finally silent.

And on they went...


	14. Bad Luck | Glee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is a witch that has recently been dealing with a bout of bad fortune. Sebastian is a newly appointed Alpha werewolf. Their paths cross when it comes to the Werewolf's attention that Kurt's family has been living right in the center of his territory for eight consecutive generations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ends a bit on a cliffhanger really

Kurt sneaked up the tall slope unhappily as he trudged through the woods behind his cottage. It was very close to midnight and, truth be told, Kurt really shouldn't have been out this late. At least not with his wand arm broken. But it was absolutely critical that he get his ingredients while the moon was half-full and he really didn't want to have to wait for another month when it would have taken less then five minutes to grab the roots and go. So, Kurt was taking a risk.

His parents had warned him time and again about every manner of dangerous beasts that called this enchanted wood their home. Kurt did take some precautions, wrapping himself in a bewitched green cloak for one, he wasn't stupid enough to completely ignore his lessons. If he didn't get the roots now though then five months, five months, of grueling work would be lost because his potion would likely explode in his face.

Kurt hated it when his plans went awry. He'd had everything set out, had gathered these particular roots at the beginning of the year. Unfortunately he accidentally cast his cupboard on fire and lost almost half his stash. Kurt could only be thankful that none the other hard-to-replace ingredients had been destroyed.  He had needed to rush but he was able to trade, barter, steal and find what he needed and his potion was now safely simmering in it's cauldron. And it would continue to simmer so long as he got these god forsaken moony roots.

Tiredly, Kurt knelt down and started digging with his good hand. Sometimes the messiness of witchcraft annoyed Kurt but one couldn't argue with the results.

Kurt stayed alert while he shoved the roots into his bag. Stopping to look over his shoulder and both ways every few seconds, so of course it came as a complete shock when he was spoken to out of the blue.

"What are you doing, witch?"

It took only a brief glance for Kurt to know what kind of dangerous it was. Gold eyes. Sharp teeth. Human looking. Yup, werewolf. Raising his chin defiantly Kurt stopped picking the moonys.

"What's it to you, werewolf?" Kurt asked coolly. Hiding the tremble of his hand beneath his cloak.

Werewolves were fast. He could hardly run away. But they could only turn someone on the full moon. The voice of his mother, whispering her lessons to him, resounded in his mind. _Don't think that means you're safe. A human could easily strangle you to sweet death, and Werewolves have ten times their strength._

"This happens to be my tribes territory." the wolf said, matter of fact, but then he leaned back against the tree at his back and crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side in a decidedly wolfish manner.

"Well, this also happens to be my backyard." Kurt replied, wondering if he was not making a mistake by saying so. 

The creatures of the forest could be territorial, and the creatures with higher reasoning were often worse than the ones that were mindless.

The werewolf frowned at him.

"We share this land with some wood nymphs and Wendigo's, I don't remember any deals with witches. Are you lying to me little witch?"

"No. I'm a _witch_. We have ways of going places unseen." Kurt answered, slightly irritated that this creature thought he was a liar. "Believe it or not my home is smack dab in the middle of this forest and has been for generations."

The wolf leaned forward and Kurt had to swallow as he caught sight of it's teeth.

"You're not lying." It stated simply. 

Kurt realized it could smell him, could smell a lie on him. Kurt frowned. The wolf grinned suddenly.

"Well, if that's the case then you'll have to come with me until we sort this out. You witches might have been living here in secret up till now but this _is_ Were territory." the werewolf said.

Kurt stood up quickly if also jerkily. He would not go, not a chance, for one his potion would be ruined if he wasn't back within the hour and there was no way he was going with this dirty looking mutt that he suspected was younger then him! 

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Take one more step and I'll set you on fire." Kurt threatened.

The werewolf paused, eyes slowly sweeping over Kurt's form. It was a rather unsettling sensation and if he wasn't being watched as closely he would have pulled his cloak around himself.  

"You know," the Werewolf finally spoke, gold eyes flicking up to Kurt's. He slowly started walking toward Kurt. "I don't think you can. You've been hiding in these woods unseen for how long, _generations_ , and suddenly you've been found now? I wonder why that is... maybe it has to do with the broken arm you're hiding. Don't witches need wands? Where's yours?"

Kurt had moved beyond frowning. He was scowling. He raised his arm, thinking of heat and the smell of burnt meat. He knew his wrist would feel like a hot frying pan to anyone else, he could feel all of his energy surging to his open palm, and that was it. He was so close, so close. He still wasn't strong enough yet to wandlessly cast a spell. And his wand was broken as well as his wand hand. Kurt jumped forward to shove the Werewolf, thinking he might still be able to run home. Preternatural speed wasn't something to scoff at though and in the next moment the wolf was to the left of Kurt, had a firm hold of Kurt's upper arm, and all of the energy that Kurt had been building slipped away.   

"Now, now neighbor, there's no need for a fight. I'm Sebastian by the way, Alpha of the Eastern Werewolf tribes, what's you're name?"

"None of your goddamn business." Kurt hisses, struggling uselessly. 

The Werewolf sighed and in the next moment Kurt felt a sharp pain and everything went black.

 

Under different circumstances Kurt might have enjoyed waking up in a soft bed of furs surrounded by many attractive boys. It was outlandish enough that his first thought was that he was still fast asleep. In the middle of a nightmare, in fact, considering all the gleaming yellow eyes and the fact that everyone was sniffing him. For one startling moment Kurt was mortified, then everything came back to him as he registered the painful throbbing of his head in time with his heartbeat. His mortification became horror.  

He whimpered where he was and curled up and shuffled away from the beasts. Ignoring the way the young werewolves turned their focus on his face and started jabbering all at once.

"It's woken up!"

" _He's_ woken up."

One of them had the audacity to lick him. Kurt's good arm flung out to smack the offending werewolf on the nose.

"Ouch." It rubbed at its cheek with a pitiful moue.

The others laughed loudly, the sounds filling the small tent up and aggravating Kurt's headache. If that werewolf had given him a concussion he would be turning him into a beetle. The last year had been bad enough without werewolves knocking him unconscious and-

Oh, no. The moony roots.

Kurt's eyes widened as he looked around the tent but his bag was nowhere to be found. How long had he been asleep?

Knowing his luck at the moment his narrow timeframe had likely long since passed. Kurt's cringed at the thought of what it would smell like when he got home. The sludge would be disgusting and before the heating charm wore off it would have probably burnt his potion to a crisp. Kurt clenched his hand to subdue his magic as it wavered dangerously. 

This was all that interfering werewolf's fault. Why did every creature in these woods have to be so obsessed with their territories and deals. It had nothing to do with witches but they always insisted on it whenever Kurt was unfortunate enough to be sighted.

Kurt supposed they couldn't learn if every time they came across the Hummel's their memories were enchanted with forgetfulness but one would think that after all this time that some would at least begin suspect what it all meant. Then again, their cottage's wards were impeccable. Kurt sighed, his father always said most magic came with a price.  

Kurt wiggled back and forth before sitting up. Trying to avoid straining his broken arm. He glared at the rowdy bunch of onlookers but wouldn't allow them to see that he was fuming at that werewolf's audacity. Knocking him out and dragging him off to this shabby tent. He opened his mouth to demand that they bring the werewolf to him or else when a bright eyed werewolf shuffled forward and clasped his hand.

"Hello. I'm Blaine Anderson. Our Alpha will be back soon to talk to you. In the mean time are you hungry?"

Kurt was hungry but he wasn't going to admit it. He needed to go home. Immediately.

 

"Let go of me." Kurt shouted angrily. He'd made it three steps out of the tent and now the werewolves were trying to dog pile him as a last resort to keeping him in it.

He'd burnt a few and knocked out some others but his arm really wasn't in a good way. Despite how quickly it would heal with proper treatment that didn't mean it didn't hurt when it was tugged at. At first the wolves had been considerate of the injury but after he'd blasted one of them with ice chunks their consideration fell to the wayside slightly.

Kurt kicked the shin of the one called Blaine as he asked him to calm down and such. Once he was free of their grips and a reasonable distance away he would be able to transport himself safely back home. Then he could grab his wand and cast a spell to alter the tribes memories of this fiasco, and this embarrassing situation could be buried and forgotten.

If he hadn't been struggling to breath under all of the werewolves combined weight he would have sighed again at his horrible luck.

"Get off." Kurt shouted, using his magic to send out jarring little shocks. Fortunately the tactic works as all of the werewolves squealed and shrieked and shouted.

Kurt used the opportunity to run but Blaine grabbed him by the sleeve, twisting him around again.

"I'm sorry but we-"

Whatever the werewolf had planned to say it didn't happen because he turned into a fluffy black rabbit. Kurt would have shouted with joy if he had accomplished such a feat intentionally, as it was turning the werewolf into a rabbit was only his accidental magic acting up in the heat of the moment. It was more embarrassing then anything to lose control like that and now he had to add looking for the spell that reversed animal transformation on top of his list of things to do. He stared down at the little thing with irritation as it wiggled its pink nose at him.

All of the werewolves had stopped trying to tackle him, gapping instead.

"I'll turn him back once I get back." He said conciliatorily, then he closed his eyes, turned on his heels, and transported home on the spot.

Of course, because of his bad fortune, the split second before he disappeared someone grabbed a hold of his shoulders and he brought them along with him.

Standing in his own home was the werewolf that had kidnapped him.


	15. Closet Fire | Naruto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC is reborn as Sasuke Uchiha. They're reasonably worried about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Body/Gender Dysphoria. Panic Attack.

The single – and I mean literally – the _single_ good thing about waking up in Sasuke Uchiha’s body, when I finally realized who I am and let me tell you it took a long time to come to that understanding because denial is a comforting friend, is that I’m finally a male person and I didn’t even have to go through the terrifying process of letting everyone know that I’m not a girl.

But other than that, yeah, everything else is shit. I mean, not only do I die horribly and embarrassingly. Hit by a bus. My last feeling is that of being run over before I thankfully black out, but then I wake up in the body of an infant, as I’m born. I have _seen_ things that no one should even vaguely remember. My eyes are scarred for life. Oh, right, and my _eyes_ are basically cursed. The second I activate the sharingan.

I don’t even know what to do. Itachi is an awesome brother, I’ll admit it. Not that it’s a surprise. He’s way better than my last brother. Although, in my first brother’s defense, he got better with age and Itachi… Itachi is a ticking time bomb. My good years are already almost up! I’m already three and I’m having a panic attack, I really shouldn’t be writing this down even if it is in English (Oh, did I mention that I had to learn Japanese too? I should have taken that instead of fucking French, fuck fuck fuck) but I think I’m having a panic attack.

It’s either a panic attack or I’m dying but I know for a fact (presumably) that Sasuke Uchiha did not have heart problems even though I can literally hear my heartbeat and I think it’s beating way too fast.

I simply cannot deal with Sasuke’s screwed up life. I can’t look at these people and deal with the fact that they’re going to die. I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to _think_ of a way to fix it. I have been since forever, only, guess what? No one talks to a three year old about politics. They don’t talk to a two year old with limited understanding of their language about politics either. They want to make sure I don’t have anything to point and ask “what?” at left. Honestly, I can understand that. It’s not as though I can do much hinting at anything at this point anyways. The coup hasn’t even really been thought of at this point. Except. Except.   

My parents want to know everywhere I go, because I’m three. They micromanage everything I do, because I’m three and they want to make sure I don’t get lost. I’m never out of their sight, and worse, they’re constantly making me work out because that’s what ninjas do to three year olds when they think they’re going to be a prodigy almost like Itachi. Almost! I’m way older then Itachi, sort of, but I’m not as much of a prodigy as he was? Where is the justice in that?

Not that I want to be seen as another Itachi. No. No. No. The longer I can put off becoming a ninja the better. Though, with my life I might as well get started and learn as much as I can because I’m going to have to fight eventually, probably, and the stronger I am the better. I might just live then. When did I become such an optimist?

Anyways, I thought if I acted smart my parents would see my maturity and give me some space but that’s completely backfired. Now that I’m showing some promise they’re even more fervent with their attention, at least when it comes to training. I heard them talking about when they’d be putting me in the academy if I continue learning at the pace I am. I don’t have time for that though. I can’t remember what age Sasuke was when his entire life was ruined but I do not, I repeat, _I do not_ want to deal with the Tsukuyomi. Did I even spell that right? Not that it matters. I’m burning this later.

It’s just… I was so relieved that I was reborn with the right gender and then I realized who I am. I would have rather been anybody else. Okay, not Naruto. Or Garra even though they’re both power houses. But – Choji. I would rather have been fat than have to deal with this constant dread.

I’ve thought about it and I have no idea how to have any impact on my clan or what Danzo is going to order Itachi to do. Itachi, who’s younger than I was when I died, who’s going to be the age I was when he kills our clan. I'm starting to think thirteen is an unlucky number. I try to hide it but I feel like he can _sense_ how sad I am and it only makes it worse that he’s always cheering me up. That he manages to cheer me up, at least until he’s gone again. Then the cold sets in.

I’m not like who the real Sasuke was. Yet it doesn’t seem to matter to him. He still pokes me on the forehead. He still treats me like I’m this precious little soul. I can’t see how the real Sasuke could have ever believed that all of this, Itachi, is a lie… Okay. That’s a lie. When you see your brother covered in blood with a sword in his hand, standing over the bodies of your dead parents (okay, now my panic attack is getting worse) you believe that he’s an unhinged monster when he tells you he did it. Especially when you’re a kid as young as Sasuke was and your own brother hits you with his eye magic so that you relive the murder of your entire clan. You don’t have time to question things because you’re alone and it’s the worst thing that could ever happen. I can’t imagine losing... everyone.

When I first realized who I was and decided I should probably change things it was more of an obligation. I figured it was my duty to try to change things for the better. No one wants that many people’s deaths on their conscience. I couldn’t even walk. I only knew my new name. I only knew that if I ignored this then nothing would change but that if I tried I might, I just might be able to change things in the future.

Now, I _know_ these people. I know their names and their faces. I know their smiles and their jokes and their beliefs. I can’t let them die and I’m nowhere closer to figuring out how to save them.

My decision wasn’t completely obligatory though. I thought I might die too if I didn’t do anything. After all there was no way to be sure that Itachi would even want to spare me, right? There was no _guarantee_ that my relationship with Itachi would somehow reach that level of closeness as I grew older. I’m not Sasuke on the inside, am I?

That thought keeps me up some nights. No brain. We’re not going down that road again.

So, brotherhood be damned. I’ve never been a gambler. I was going to do everything I could to make sure Itachi never had to make that choice.

Now, I’m reasonably sure that I have nothing to worry about as far as Itachi and my safety on that day is concerned. We’re close. Sure, he’s always busy. But we’re close and I didn’t even have to really do anything to make that happen. He’s been with me from day one. So freaking young.

Too young to be a ninja already. Promising me that he’ll be a good brother and protect me. I swear he knows I knew what he was saying. I couldn’t exactly hide my smile. He was just too cute. I might be younger, physically, and Itachi might be wise as fuck for a little kid but I still feel like I have a younger brother at times. I want to look out for the kid.

It hurts when I think about how futile my wants have been so far. I’m almost four and I haven’t done jack shit. Four years. I feel so useless. Why am I even alive? Why have I been reborn?

Sometimes I try to make him play with me. I could care less about making him teach me how to be a ninja. I see how tired he gets and want to help. I feel guilty even though nothing has happened yet. I just… feel like there’s so little time. I have to squeeze as many good memories as I can into my life, just in case there’s nothing that can be done. Just in case…

 

Tears fell onto the page and I shut my eyes tightly, crumpling the paper up in my little fist. Fuck my life. Why was this life so hard? Was it the price of my greatest wish coming true? To lose my family? To lose my safe life and be shoved into Sasuke’s dangerous one?  

I had finally worked up the nerve to tell my best friend. Sometimes I remember that damned bus and I want to take a bat to it. Wreck that stupid bus. I want to smash it to pieces until it’s unrecognizable. I still remember the sudden pain. Nothing that I’ve felt since then compares, though it’s become apparent that I’m going to be a ninja. There’s no way around it that I can think of. Pain is to be expected, isn’t it?

The constant soreness I feel from my workouts certainly hints at that. I can think of several dangerous ninja and I wonder if I’ll be good enough to survive them all. I wonder if Sasuke was right, and I won’t become strong enough to survive unless I go to Orochimaru. I wonder how much I’ll potentially mess things up if I stay.

There’s a sense of certainty in the thought of following Sasuke’s path. Three unknown years, but I’ll have some idea of what I should have learned by the end of it because I’ll know what Sasuke had accomplished. It’s only the curse mark that gives me real pause. No matter what I have to avoid _that_.

I have no idea how to avoid it. Other than not going the exams in the first place. If I did that, though, then Naruto wouldn’t be able to stop Garra. Or Neji for that matter. I probably sound like Neji, thinking about things like this, but I don’t want to risk changing those things.

“Sasuke?”

My mom’s voice startles me. I shove the piece of paper over the small flame of the white candle I’d taken into my closet with me. It burned quickly and I helped it along as quickly as I could, not wanting to be caught burning things in my closet. I almost want to laugh even as I worry that my mom will find me soon. A three year old with a candle. Oh god, no wonder she never leaves me alone.

This whole plan was pretty stupid. Am I really that surprised that everyone thinks Itachi is the bigger prodigy? The thought makes me grin. I can’t imagine my brother having a panic attack, and then in the midst of it deciding to write all his problems down and burn them with a candle in his closet. I won’t deny that it feels good though. Seeing everything I scribbled down in sloppy ink slowly disappear, consumed by the heat of such a tiny flame. I feel calmer.

I’m only three. There’s time yet for me to help my clan. I take a deep breath as I carefully release the last corner of the burning parchment and blow out the candle.

It’s dark. I sort of want to stay in here and ignore everything else for a while longer. My mom calls for me again though so step out of my closet and run to the bathroom to wash my hands and face.

My mom finds me just as the last vestiges of ink dribble down the drain. Her smile is warm as she tells me lunch is ready, taking me by the hand gently.

“Okay mama.”

I’ll think of something. _I promise I will._


	16. Adoption | Naruto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Kyuubi attack Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha choose to adopt one of the orphaned children in order to alleviate the suspicions cast on the Uchiha Clan. A two year old Sai’s life takes a dramatic turn.

The clan elders didn’t like the idea of adopting a non-clan member. In truth, Fugaku wasn’t convinced that he liked it either but they all knew something needed to be done in order to stabilize the clans standing in the village after the Kyuubi attack.

 

Itachi stood quietly beside his parents. Sasuke slept soundly in their mother’s arms as the other three observed the chosen occupants of the playroom with consideration.

Itachi counted twelve children. Twelve potential siblings.

He wasn’t convinced that he wanted another sibling. One that wasn’t even of his blood, though he had heard his parent’s reasons. Itachi had Sasuke and while the newborn was a ray of light after a long day’s training, there was no denying that his loveable, energetic little brother was more than enough of a handful as it was.    

Itachi tried to imagine having another little brother, or sister. He couldn’t.

They stood at the edge of the playroom watching the little ones from one to three years of age as they played. Some were rowdy and some were quieter. Many of them looked up from their toys to glance at the newcomers with curiosity.

Itachi carefully observed each one. In a way, this wasn’t that bad. Unlike Sasuke he could choose exactly who he wanted. He loved Sasuke and wouldn’t want to change him even if he could but there was something different, maybe even special, about getting to choose exactly who would be coming home with them. His parents had said that they would choose a child that was healthy and that looked similar to a real Uchiha, someone young so that they could raise them like a real Uchiha (albite one that would never have the Sharingan) but those were their only stipulations and Itachi didn’t mind them. They made sense to him.   

There were more than a few children with similar enough features. He dismissed the ones that were overly rambunctious. Sasuke was already loud enough and he didn’t need two loud little brothers, nor did he want a clone.

He broke off from his parents to talk to a few of the children that looked more promising in his eyes, asking simple questions as he went. They were all cute children but none of them made him feel anything close to what he felt for Sasuke. Itachi was about to give up. Let his parents decide and resign himself to the choice. He was sure that anyone they picked would be fine and that he’d grow to accept them in any case.

Then a slight movement from under a table off the side of the room caught Itachi’s attention. He stared at the table, then saw a tiny foot kick against the tablecloth again, revealing someone hidden beneath it. Itachi looked back to his parents, they were speaking to one of the children that had a teddy bear in their hands.

 

Sai was so concentrated on his drawing that he didn’t notice an older boy lifting the tablecloth and coming in to sit beside him until they spoke up.

“What are you drawing?”

He glanced up at the boy, surprised and also hesitant to answer. He’d been brought to the orphanage after his parents died, when the scary feeling had filled the air and made it hard to breath. He’d learned later that many people died because of a demon fox on that day, because many of the children here were new to the orphanage like him. There were many children and not enough parents.

Sai felt invisible and even though the orphanage was always loud with noises Sai always felt that it was a very quiet and unwelcoming place. This was the first time he’d been noticed since his parents had disappeared and he was shown where he’d sleep here and told when the food was made every day. Sai had always been a rather introverted child but his parents had paid attention to him so he’d never felt ignored or lonely, not until he lived here.

He observed the other boy for a moment before deciding they really were just curious and not a bully like some of others living at the orphanage.

“A fox.” He said. He held up the drawing with both hands.

Sai wasn’t a very good artist and in his two, almost three, years of life he’d never seen a fox. The scribbles on the page, swirls of black ink, looked nothing like a real fox but painting reminded Sai of his father who would always sit over a desk and scribble on pages. Sai hadn’t been allowed to draw with the ink then and he wasn’t allowed to draw here, which was why he’d hidden himself under the table. The boy looked at the picture but didn’t comment on its accuracy; that made Sai flash a quick smile behind the picture he held in front of his face.

After a moment Sai went back to drawing as the boy sat next to him in the dark.

“Why are you under the table?”

Sai stopped drawing, worried that the older boy would tell on him if he said anything. They didn’t look mean though, like some of the children who would smile and then get others in trouble for a pat on the head. This boy didn’t smile. This boy looked entirely serious. Somehow it put Sai at ease and he felt like he could confide in him.

“I’m hiding. I took the ink from the matron’s desk.” Sai whispered, ducking his head a little as he drew even as he took at the boy’s face out of the corner of his eyes and watched for any sign that he’d be in trouble soon. They still only looked curious though.

“You… stole?”

When the other boy put it like that Sai’s eyes widened slightly, he hadn’t thought of it like that. He couldn’t think of any other word now but somehow it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like stealing. He clutched at the pen in his hand. He didn’t want to give it up. Somehow if he had to give it up it would be like watching his parents leave the house in their ninja gear and not coming back even though Sai waited and waited.   

Sai looked down at his picture. At the black circles that reminded him of the fox.

 

The boy looks more like an Uchiha then any of the other children at the orphanage, that’s Itachi’s first thought. He wouldn’t be surprised if the boy had Uchiha blood in him, that’s his second thought.

Itachi wasn’t sure that having a thieving little brother would be a good idea. He would have to teach him a lot and watch him closely if he brought this one home with him, but even though Itachi should have picked anyone else he didn’t leave.

Maybe it was because the younger boy looked slightly pitiful and fragile as he stared down at the drawing blankly, but also strong. Serene and unafraid as he drew the monster… the fox… that made even the strongest ninja sweat with fear. Itachi felt a strange emotion clutch at his heart as he looked at the little boy who drew the thing that had caused so much pain and terror. The monster that had taken the boys parents from him.

They didn’t remind him of Sasuke, not really, but…

“What’s your name?”

“… Sai.”

“I’m Itachi. Wait here, okay?”

Itachi left before the other could agree or not. He went straight to his parents who were looking at a one year old in a crib with polite interest.

“I know who I want my new little brother to be.” Itachi announced.  

They looked surprised. Itachi supposed their reactions made sense. He hadn’t expressed any particular interest in what was happening until this moment.

“His name is Sai. I think he’s two or three.”

“That’s a bit old, Itachi. Let’s see him.” His father said.

They followed him over to the table and Itachi held his hand up to them so as to signal them to wait. Then he slipped under the table, this time Sai noticed his return.

Silently, Itachi reached over to wipe a smudge of ink off of the boy’s face. Taking the pen from Sai’s hands he fixed the boys hair and shirt so that he looked neater. Once Sai looked presentable Itachi took the child’s hand and led him out.

“This is Sai.”

 

Sai looked up at the tall adults in front of him. They must have been Itachi’s parents. The man looked severe and the woman looked… serene. He found himself clutching onto Itachi’s hand more tightly as they looked at him, and he felt comforted when the older boy squeezed his hand back. Even though he’d felt strangely warm and happy when Itachi cleaned him up he now felt nervous and small as Itachi’s parents looked at him. He could feel the eyes of the other children, envious and thoughtful in equal measure.

“Hello Sai-kun.”

 

It’s obvious that they see how much Sai looks like an Uchiha. It pleases them and that pleases Itachi. He knows he chose the right little brother. If his parents picked anyone else now Itachi would feel bereft. He’d only exchanged a few words with Sai, but he hadn’t exchanged any words with Sasuke. Somehow he was just sure. Sure that Sai should be his little brother and that Sai needed an older brother.

 

Sai looks at the baby named Sasuke as Mikoto-san kneels next to him so that he can have a good look. He thinks the baby is very cute and says so. She smiles at him kindly and he turns to focus more attentively on the baby when he wakes up. Sleepy dark eyes peer up at him and the baby gurgles at him.

“Hello.” He says because that’s polite.

Sasuke-kun reaches up, takes a fistful of Sai’s hair and pulls on it with another happy gurgle. Sai’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. He’s seen more babies than he can count after being brought to the orphanage but not up close, so it takes him by complete surprise. His hand tightens in Itachi’s for a second. Sai lifts his hand up to coax the baby to let go.

“That’s not polite, Sasuke-kun.” Sai teaches him.

Luckily the baby lets him go. Sai smiles, like his parents would, to show him that he’s done a good job. Sasuke-kun smiles back. When Sai looks up at Mikoto-san again he notices that her smile is different. He’s not sure how because it’s the same size. Somehow her eyes look different now. Nicer.

She shares a meaningful look with her husband and then turns her smile back to him again.

“Sai-kun, would you like to come home with us? Would you like to join our family?”

 

Itachi holds Sai’s hand the whole walk home.


	17. Heroes | Death Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light's life wasn't picture perfect. His life was enduring pain and suppressing fear, and when he found the death note he already knew who he _wanted_ to kill. His only question was if he could chip away the last of his humanity to do what needed to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Child Abuse
> 
> This used to be the start of a slightly longer fic "What is Justice" that I orphaned. That piece is somewhere on AO3 if you want to read it, although it's unfinished. Personally I think this stands better alone, plus I'm not going to finish that fic.

Their father usually attacked places that were concealable. Their upper arms, back, stomach, and thighs... anywhere else and the abuse would be too obvious. Light sometimes imagined revealing the dark bruises to a person that would then be forced to do something. He would play through make-believe scenarios where he and Sayu stood safely by, triumphant, as their father was carted away by a strong protector. They would smile when he was finally gone.

Light would comfort himself with the small fantasy, retreating into the far corners of his mind whenever he could throughout the day. It was a pathetic daydream, Light knew that, but he kept thinking about it.

 

 

 _Sayu held out a warm washcloth. She had no tears in her eyes, even as there was a large bruise purpling her right arm. This was normal. How repulsive was it that this, cleaning the blood off of each other, was normal? It wasn't_ fair _and Light loathed that suffocating unfairness. He wished that he could hate his father for it. Light wanted to be convinced that they did not deserve what was done to them. The punches and kicks, being thrown around, they were undeserving of the attacks made by the lost and easily angered man._

 _A man that was good once_. _A man that had changed_.

_"We don't deserve this." Light said softly, whispering the words to his sister haltingly. He didn't know where they came from, didn't know whether or not they were the truth. After what their father had said today... they couldn't be._

_But Light said them convincingly, because Sayu looked broken down._

_The house was silent as they pulled themselves together. His sister swallowed, saying nothing and taking a slow deep breath as if she needed to inhale Light's words._

_He stopped her hand by taking it in his own and looking into her warm, brown eyes. No one as good as Sayu deserved to be in pain._

_Light said it again, only this time he said_ you.

_"You don't deserve this Sayu."_

_He could always convince himself of Sayu's innocence, he knew that she didn't deserve any of this. She was good. Light wasn't sure why he couldn't encourage himself to believe that he was the same, even as Sayu repeated the words back to him with welling tears in her eyes._

_"You don't deserve this."_

_"We don't deserve this."_

_He couldn't help thinking that maybe he did._

 

 

When Light first picked the death note up, after his last class of the day, he hadn't thought that the action would have any sort of direct consequence over his future. He never considered that a mere notebook would have the power to change his life forever. That the black notebook he saw fall from the sky would corrupt its user with the simple, compelling, ability to kill.

He hadn't thought it was real, not at first. If he'd had had any indication of the absolute truth of what was written, or the lesser known truths in the other things, he probably would have set the notebook back down where he found it. Yes, the ability to kill was- but let someone _else_ be a killer, corrupted, and changed forever. Light wanted to graduate and go to college, get a job that would support Sayu. He didn't want to kill his father.

Mostly, as Light read the title and rules of the book he had thought the "death note" to be a weird, sick joke. He had wanted to take it home so that he could read the rest of the game, not to use it but to take a good look. His father had been busy with detective work. As always, his father wouldn't be home until he began to get edgy. This meant that the man wouldn't discover what Light had brought back to their house. To pass some time Light read the rest of the games rules on his way home.  **.** _ **..The human whose name is written in this note shall die... If the cause of death is written within forty seconds of writing the person's name. It will happen...**_

A small part of Light honestly wished that it was true. That writing a name down was all that it took to take a life. If only he could use it then all of his problems would disappear. The person he resented the most would be gone.

That small rotten place in Light's heart started to squelch and throb to life inside of him. It told him to take a pen and try the notebook out but that was a little, easily ignored part of Light. A part of himself that didn't in reality matter, because obviously the notebooks power wasn't real.

He took it home and showed it to Sayu. Light read the rules to her so that she would understand them. He wasn't precisely sure why he decided at the last minute to show Sayu the death note. He had thought it would make for a good laugh. That was, at the time, the extent of his thoughts on the matter.

The next day he understood that deep down he was planning to use the death note and he had wanted his sister, the closest person to him, to know it. Whether that was to stop Light or to encourage him to proceed he wasn't sure, maybe it didn't matter. She had done neither.

She had laughed over it, and looked closely at the death note.

"This is pretty dark for a joke."

"Right?"

That had been the end of it.

Light decided to give himself a day to decide if he would test it. When he went to school the next morning he left the death note underneath his pillow.

As he went through all his classes his mind continued to drift to the death note. He realized that using it would change him. If it didn't work he would have to live with the knowledge that he would have used it selfishly and if it did work... then his father would be dead.

 

 

 _Light spun around on his heels, smiling when he spotted his mother sitting at the brown park bench in the distance. In her arms Sayu was sleeping peacefully for once. His newborn sibling cried constantly. His mother told him that it was normal for babies, she said that he had also cried when he was younger, so Light forgave Sayu for being annoying, disturbing, and messy at times. She couldn't help it. Though he hoped that the phase would pass soon and Sayu would learn to walk and_ talk _quickly._

_Being a big brother was appealing to Light. He liked helping. He liked it when his mother told him that he was a big brother now. It would get more interesting when Sayu could do more than wiggle. He would teach her how to do things, and protect her. Maybe she would be very smart..._

_"Would you like to play on the swings, Light?" his father's voice brought him out of the thoughts on his new sister._

_"Yes!" Light replied. The swings were his favorite. They made him feel like he was flying._

_Light's mother was at her happiest when his father was able to get a day off from his work, and when they were all able to spend some time with each other as a family. Days such as this needed to be savored, so Light never asked questions about his father's work even when he was curious._

_He ran ahead of his father towards a swing that he sat down on immediately, kicking his legs back and forth to get himself going as quickly as he could. His father followed after him, sitting on the red swing next to Light's with a soft smile on his face._

_"How is school?" his father asked._

_"Good. Yesterday Mrs. Aiko said I got a perfect score on my arithmetic quiz." a proud smile came onto his father's face at the good news. He continued to ask Light questions, starting from the subject of school and eventually shifting over to Light's mother and little Sayu. It was a good day, one that Light was sure he would remember._

 

 

Light gazed out of the large window of his classroom, starring holes into the place where the notebook had landed. This being Light's only class with a window that he sat close to, he was always looking outside. That was what had gotten him into this mess. Not that having the death note was really a mess yet. Why was it bothering him? He hadn't written in it.

He would by tonight though. More and more, Light kept catching himself thinking:  _when_  I write,  _after_  I write,  _before_  I write. Falling away were all of his doubts. It wasn't  _if_  he wrote in the death note anymore, it was  _when._

Light felt a small twinge of shame at that. Perhaps this was a punishment for only half listening to all of his teacher's lessons. Yes, the lessons were full of things that Light had already studied before on his own, and the repetitiveness of what he was taught made it tiresome for Light to listen seriously when he hadn't found the class work interesting to begin with, but the memory of his last student teacher conference was still fresh in his mind.

All his father had heard that day, out of everything, was that Light sometimes looked inattentive in class.

For that single remark, taken out of context, the following weeks had been hellish. Never mind that Light was the top student of Japan, most of the time. Light had been forced to miss nine days of school after that and he was still working at recovering his grade point average. Continuing to look out of the window was, admittedly, a risky rebellion if he was caught but the chances of that actually happening were unlikely. His father never asked about his schooling, had only gone to the student conference to keep up apperances. If he had been more invested in Light's schooling, then maybe Light wouldn't have been looking outside the day before.

Light had looked though, and he had seen the death note. Giving himself a day wasn't going to change his mind. His choice had already been made the moment he found the notebook, now he was only biding his time, halfheartedly trying to think of a good reason not to use it. The notebook was not real, that should have meant that it didn't matter _what_ Light choose to do, but... when his mother died and his father blamed Light and Sayu, when he hurt them, he had destroyed whatever goodness was left inside of himself.

The man that took care of his family was gone and an uncaring demon had taken over. Light worried that he would go the same way. The power to kill had to be corrupting, as consuming as power to hurt another person was.

He hated the thought of Sayu having a murderer for brother. He needed to take care of her.

What was to say that Light would be able to stop at only one person? He could see himself saving other people like him, taking down the names of criminals. Light knew the book was a fake but holding it, the texture of the book felt like nothing he had ever held before, a sizzling black energy saturated it. Light shook his head, feeling ridiculous.

Going home Light felt the rotten part of himself growing larger, and his fingers itched to take action as he opened the door to his house, he felt a mounting pressure readying itself for release. 

He didn't realize that Sayu had a heart rotting inside of her too. He should have realized it earlier. As Light walked up to his room he should have noticed that something wasn't right. In his bedroom he could hear the sound of the TV playing. Why was Sayu in his room listening to... the News? Light opened his door. At his desk he could see Sayu's back, he could see her writing frantically on something-

Sayu no.

She hadn't even turned her head when he entered the room. On his bed the pillow was missing. His pillow was on the floor. The death note missing. Sayu? Sayu hated their father. In her mind he had never been a father at all, and she never called him that or respected or cared for him in any way. She was afraid of their father and hated the man for it. Unlike Light, she could not remember a time when they had all been a happy family of four. She couldn't hope that something would change for the better in time. On the News there was something being shown about a criminal dying of a heart attack... Slowly, Light walked forward and the notebook came into view. Names, names, more names then he could imagine... Sayu was writing in the death note.

"Sayu no." Light said, staring in shock. Her head whipped around to look at him. A satisfied expression gleamed up at him. It was her eyes that froze him in place. Frenzied, crazed eyes. Eyes that looked just like their fathers after he'd taken his belt off and- Light swallowed as she looked up at him, he couldn't breathe.

His world was being ruined. She wasn't supposed to look at him with those eyes. Would he have looked like this? Would he have scared Sayu? That was the last thing that he had ever wanted and the last thing that Sayu wanted, he was sure. Light buried his fears quickly, hoping that she hadn't seen anything in his eyes. Ink covered her fingers and the second page was more than halfway though with names.

So many names.  _Too_ many names were written. Not Sayu. She couldn't be a murderer. She was always supposed to have warm, kind eyes.

In seconds Sayu was babbling happily.

"I did it for us Light, and it worked. The death note worked, can you believe it? It's okay. I knew you would always feel bad about killing him but I know that I never will. He deserved to die. I just wish I saw it when it happened."

Her eyes looked hot, burning, and impassioned. She held the notebook open wide for him to see. At the top of the page, in black ink, one name stood out to Light.

**_Soichiro Yagami. Shot by a criminal. He dies painfully._ **

Light read and reread that first name. He didn't care about the others, and there were a lot of others. It felt so right that Soichiro Yagami should die in that way. In as much pain as possible. It was wrong to feel that way though. Sayu should have never written that name. Sayu had gotten home earlier then Light. He should have took the death note with him instead of leaving the temptation for her to find and be alone with. Sayu should have been safe in her room, why had he not realized earlier? Why did he show her that stupid book? She never should have had to kill anyone. Light shook his head to clear it, or to deny what was happening. He realized that she was still talking even as his mind reeled.

"Then I realized. Why stop at him? He was a bad person but not the only one that deserves to die. There are evil people all around the world hurting others. Killers, and abusive husbands that hurt their families. I,  _we_ , can write all the names down and, Light, the world will get me better and better." Sayu said with triumphant grin, holding the note book open for him to see, moving forward to be closer to him.

As if through showing Light the proof of what she had done, who she had murdered, would make him believe that she was alright.

All it showed him was that he had been right. The death note did make people crazy, even a good girl like Sayu. How horrible of him. Why hadn't he ever considered that Sayu would do the same thing he would, was capable of doing the same thing he had been planning? They could be so alike sometimes.

"We would be heroes."

What was she saying now?

"Sayu, the book isn't real." Light murmured, feeling choked. It couldn't be real. It had to be a lie. Sayu couldn't be a killer.

"No. It is real, I checked it on TV. Isn't this amazing Light, Light? Aren't you happy?" her eyes lost their burning heat for a moment and instead she looked curiously at him.

"He's dead. We don't have to be scared again. We can kill anyone that gets in our way." she said softly.

Light looked at her, took in the slow warmth filling up her eyes again. It was going to be okay. Sayu was still Sayu, still his baby sister. He would protect her, always. Swiftly Light's hand jabbed out, snatching the death note away from her. He turned around and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. He knew that the matches were in the kitchen, inside the bottom left drawer.

"Light? Light what are you doing?" Sayu called.

He could hear her footsteps following him.  _I'm sorry, Sayu. I'll fix this._ In moments he had the matches, his intentions were clear. "NO." She screamed. He'd never heard her yell at him.

"I'm sorry, Sayu."

Her hands reached for the death note, grabbing at his arms and trying to rip it from him. He didn't allow her to. He lit a match and shoved the book to it. Sayu screamed, as if he was hurting her.

The death note was destroyed more quickly than Light would have imagined, burning up almost at once. An ugly, green glow colored the flames as Light flung it into the empty sink. Sayu was hitting him and still shouting.

"Why did you do that? WHY? How could you? After everything I told you. It saved us. It saved us."

Light pulled her close, hugging his little sister tightly.

"It didn't save us.  _You_  saved us. You did it. We don't need the death note anymore." Light said as she pushed at him.

The death note would have only corrupted her more.  _Let me save you._ They sunk to the floor as Sayu lost all of her energy. The room became quiet as they sat on there. What Light had said was true.

_Sayu saved us. She saved me._

"We could have saved everyone." she whispered to him. They would have been heroes,  _Gods_.

"I know. I know it."


End file.
